


Gravitational Force of Will

by PhoenixFire_theWizardGoddess



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Battle, Blood & Gore, Chaos, Gen, Grief, Growth, Loss, Null Sector & Neo-Null Sector Omnics, Overwatch Family, Some omnic-hate, learning, violence and fighting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-11
Updated: 2018-06-11
Packaged: 2019-05-20 23:46:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14904455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhoenixFire_theWizardGoddess/pseuds/PhoenixFire_theWizardGoddess
Summary: The A.I. behind Null Sector was secreted away, hidden so it might regain strength, within the heart of Russia.Zarya throws off the orders to remain, the offers of help from her fellow Overwatch members, and races to her mother country in order to save who and what she can; though perhaps, that was a grave mistake.





	Gravitational Force of Will

**Author's Note:**

> More of a Concept that became a fanfic, please let me know your thoughts.

The snow falls so thickly here it is impossible to distinguish bloody bodies from the broken bots littered amongst them. Even now, even years beyond the great omnic wars there were always battlefields like this… some public, others far more secretive, the cost of keeping the citizenry safe kept hidden.

Null Sector had long been a driving force of the omnic war, their bastion units and OR14s still plagued the nightmares of the veterans who somehow survived. Thought routed out, both by force upon the battlefields, and through purging of the infected sector technology… Null Sector was declared dead, vanquished, many years ago. However, there were those who knew the truth.

Overwatch, or more specifically Winston, had discovered a series of attempted breaches in his firewalls at Watchpoint: Gibraltar. Upon investigation, it was clear something intelligent had been probing cautiously against the base databanks of other sites; bearing none of the standard hallmarks of the infamous hacker, Sombra. This was a clear cause for concern, and sent a ripple of anxiety through the gathered heroes; Talon was a threat, yes, but they were well-known.

Fighting the unknown again brought up painful memories, even if they weren’t acknowledged on a conscious level. There was always the chance that something had survived, a remnant… an errant patch of code that had access to the internet…

Or worse yet, as Winston had gravely confirmed, a sliver of what had once been the base AI of Null Sector being deliberately uploaded via neo-facist omnics. Robots of all different makes, who felt that their natural right to rule the earth had been thwarted in the past, only through the corruption of omnics by humans. The very idea of cohabitating with these biological entities and the ‘code traitor’ omnics who sympathised, revolted them to their core.

It was their handiwork that had seen small scale data incursions on less encrypted sites, leading to both the loss of information… and life. 

 

Though omnic citizens were often provided with the latest updates and anti-virus programs by the government, in much the same way their human counterparts received vaccinations and healthcare for free, it could not cover everything. Say, a malevolent viral AI that infected them through the ever-present wifi and reactivated ancient code deep within their cores. 

Not all omnics were created as killers, no, but somewhere at the base programming level there were remnants from the days when they had been made as war machines by desperate, ruthless humans. Much like there were lingering pieces of genetic code in DNA that served no function unless activated…

Security breaches began on a global scale, and incidents involving compromised omnic citizens were increasing on a daily basis. Always spread out, always devastating to everyone exposed and leaving few survivors.   
Hate had begun to spread, spurred on by the fear of what was happening; the elderly recalled how it had been not so long ago, and children screamed themselves awake, uncertain why they could ever think the omnics would hurt them. 

Null Sector wanted this, of course. Though the end game was clearly dominion, and a proper form once more, this end could only be achieved by… fanning the flame a little, instilling an Us and Them schism between organic and omnic. 

It was getting exactly what it wanted. 

 

When Winston caught on to what was happening behind the seemingly random attacks, he immediately briefed Commanders Amari & Morrison. So far Overwatch had been deploying teams whenever news of an incident occurring was received; but that was merely patching up the bullet holes, not unloading the gun, as it were. Something had to be done, something preemptive.

Junkrat and Roadhog had been pretty vocal about their thoughts on this whole mess, as they would, given the hellhole they’d come from. Omnics had always been a source of fear and anger for inhabitants of the wasteland; although it had meant that Junkers were well prepared to tackle sudden attacks. 

They were stretched thin as it was, with agents all over the globe right now.   
Certainly the aim was to subdue, not destroy, but it was proving difficult and exacting a heavy psychological cost on many of the heroes. With the support team working overtime to keep everyone functioning in the meantime… and Ana making sure the healers got a good nap in every so often, with no arguments.

DVa and Lucio had been working overtime to try and instill calm in the global populace, through direct action and appealing to their fanbases to understand that clearly it was not just ‘robots gone bad’. Child-genius Efi, had personally upgraded the security tech on the omnic and cybernetic members of the group, trying to keep them out of reach. She had been helping Winston track the source for over a week, before they had pinned down the AI’s whereabouts.

And of all places, it was laughably ironic.

Of course, of COURSE it would be there… hiding under the very noses of the only people who hated omnics more than Junkers ever could.

Russia.

Of course.

 

~)0(~

 

She had not been particularly amused by the discovery. 

In fact, it had infuriated her no end. A white-hot rage burning bright in her gut that seemed to flare with every beat of her heart; to think of the motherland so defiled once more, by the very thing that had nearly brought the world down in flames before! 

No, Zarya was angry. Furious, one could say, but buried deep under a stony expression. A human volcano, threatening to erupt at any moment.

“No. Uh-uh, I refuse to submit to such laughable conditions.” she informs Soldier 76, who looks harried even from behind the ever-present mask. Her brow furrows, “You cannot stop me from going back to Russia, to fight for my people… and you cannot make me agree to join… what you laughably call a team.” 

“I understand you have an issue with the fact that they’re-…” he attempts to negotiate, but she cuts him off by raising a hand to forestall any counter-argument. 

“You have not heard me, Soldier. My answer is no, and I will be leaving immediately, the people have need of my protection.” She stated with clipped precision, before turning on her heel and marching to the door.

She felt, more than heard, his sigh. Soldier 76 looked down at his desk, expression unreadable as he said, “You’ve gotta do what you feel is right, Zarya, I just hope you’re making the right call…”

As the door snapped shut behind her, the words seemed to echo throughout the antechamber of her skull; but they did not fracture her resolve.  
Straightening her spine, Zarya strode towards her assigned room, to ready for departure.

 

~)0(~

 

Far from the sleek design of the dropships Symmetra had constructed for Overwatch, the rickety military transport shuttle sent to fetch her home was most assuredly a relic of the war. Unearthed from a museum somewhere, perhaps. 

Several teammates had tried to talk her out of stepping aboard that thing, but ultimately failed. She was known for being stubborn, resolute upon seeing through her set course of action no matter what may come. 

By the time they had arrived at Volskaya Industry Headquarters, Zarya was violently aware of every bone in her body, and the manner in which the juddering ship had rattled them on the long flight. A few aches and bruises were inconvenient, but she could most assuredly ignore them for now; she had had worse and survived. 

 

The meeting with the President was terse, as Zarya relayed the information she had on the situation. It was clear that the other woman knew more than she was saying, her expression falsely companionable, but her words guarded.   
Tired, and unwilling to play the word game politicians seemed to enjoy so much, she dropped her weapon on the polished surface of the Presidential  Desk. It earned her a shocked look of disapproval, but also the silence in which to ask whether the exact location of the Null Sector AI was known.

“No.” came the reply, then a pause. “Well, more precisely, not the exact coordinates, but we do have a general area of interest that our sources appear to believe is the epicentre.” 

“Good.” Zarya nods, almost to herself. “I will go there myself, and end this.” 

She had expected the President to countermand her, but silence was the only response. Zarya hefted her weapon, engaging the charging mechanism that sent little pulses of light throughout her suit and reflected in her eyes, before turning to leave the room. 

 

~)0(~

 

Screaming filled her ears long before the transport landed on what little of the impromptu battlefield their forces occupied. From the intel she had gathered from the pilot en route, it appeared that one of the underground bunker facilities built by the government to protect the populace’s top minds and advanced technology, was the source of the AI’s reign of terror.

The neo-Null Sector group had found one of the many emergency tunnel exits several kilometres from the actual facility site, and broke in. By the time local forces had come to investigate the security breach, the hatch had been sealed again, and fused shut. Alternate exit tunnels were spread in all directions, and they could not waste time searching for the next one; instead alerting the Russian military of the situation.

 

Although predominantly human teams had been dispatched to each of the exits to forestall any manufactured omnic units escaping unnoticed, the main battle was by the official entrance to the underground bunker facility. It had been cleverly seeded underneath a large stretch of land that normally appeared as former farmland, a carefully maintained cover. At current, all was blanketed in thick snow, icy winds curling over the landscape and draining the endurance of even the hardiest soldier.

Bodies and bullets clashed against omnic metal. Sharpshooters tried hard to target weakpoints before they, in turn, were shot down; ground troops swarmed in organised chaos, attempting to wear down their enemies through sheer force of numbers alone. Screams and beeps rang out, as one or another fell; the few medics dodged through the mess and tried valiantly to save whomever they could.

 

Towering over all, a large anti-aircraft weapon was being constructed, behind the raised entrance to the bunker, and well-attended by swiftly moving techbots. They seemed to be harnessing light construct technology, like that of Symmetra and Vishkar Industries, leading Zarya to surmise that at least some of their manfacturing omnics had been compromised by Null Sector. 

The entrance itself was designed to swiftly rise from the snow in a large rectangle, and recede just as quickly; the main ideology being that the top minds could be quickly dropped off and hidden before the area was overrun. It was raised, and an almost never-ending stream of robotic beings trudged through the large open doorway. 

One would think the large ones, the OR-14s and Bastions, were the greatest threat; but Zarya knew from experience that it was the smaller, faster compact omnic creatures that were deadlier. Often overlooked in the frantic melee of close combat,  they zipped unseen across the ground; some used electricity to stun targets, others injected all manner of concoctions. To be tagged by them, was death itself out here.

Dotted amongst the throng of metallic bodies were omnics, some still wearing the clothing of their civilian lives as they viciously tore at the humans they had previously professed to care for. Hah! 

 

Though in all honesty, Zarya found no comfort in being right. Even if the omnics here were fulfilling her greatest nightmare by turning on the humans they had previously lived alongside in ‘peace’, she knew rationally that the majority were simply coerced into it. Humans could be too; brainwashed, and made to do awful things. She shook her head to clear the vague flash of memory regarding Widowmaker from within her mind’s eye; all too well, Overwatch knew that people could be broken and remade as Talon wished.

So too, in a way, these robotic creatures had been stripped of whatever it was that drove them… and had it replaced with a burning protocol of extermination. It was not quite like the battles of the past; every so often a face within the melee would be streaked with distress as they fought for their life against an omnic clearly familiar to them. 

Cruel, though somewhat unexpected. Russia was quite against omnics as tourists, let alone citizens; but given the degree of interconnectivity the world had these days, it would not surprise her to learn they had met online. 

 

Likewise seeded throughout the mess were Null Sector supporters, their gleaming purple armour signifying which side of the war they fought upon; and the obvious fervour with which they tore their enemies apart. Her gut clenched at the sight, the rage roiling around as her grip on the gravity cannon tightened; even if she could never bring herself to trust an omnic, this… this was far worse than that. To have learned of the terrible toll that Null Sector had wrought on the world the first time, and then to idolise them to the point of enacting the same thing once again? 

It was sickening. 

It was, she almost laughed to herself, utterly inhuman.

 

But they weren’t, were they? Human.

And that… she could work with.

 

~)0(~

 

With a primal cry she leapt from the open door of the transport, boots thudding into the snow and sinking deep with the combined weight of herself and the cannon. Zarya couldn’t even feel the cold lapping at her exposed skin, the thrumming fury inside kept her warm as she began to fire into the melee. 

With deadly precision, she targeted the thicker knots of bodies clashing against one another. Bubbling those she could with a few seconds of safety, and drawing fire upon herself.

She was well-known as the hero of Russia, and when she commanded, people hurried to follow her orders. Moving steadily forwards with all the menacing might of a tank, Zarya did her best to protect the soldiers, and disrupt the omnic advance. It was key that they break through to dismantle that anti-aircraft gun, but for now reducing the clutter would have to do.

The laser charged swiftly under continuous assault, and she easily cut through several OR-14 shields, leading a swelling mass of military might behind her through the omnic-occupied territory. The OR-14 to her left manages to throw out a gravity orb, yanking her roughly off her feet and crashing into bodies several feet to the left. Nothing feels broken, but something is likely bruised; Zarya shoves the weapon to the side and pulls the closest personnel upright. 

You should never linger on a battlefield unguarded, after all, and she would not leave comrades stranded. 

 

Grimly amused, she faces the ragtag group of omnics hiding behind the OR-14′s shield, alongside a hastily self-repairing bastion. “Two can play that game, rust bucket.” she calls, and activates her ultimate, Graviton Surge. “Fire at Will!” 

The black hole launches across the minor divide and hangs in the air, sucking bots of all sizes just high enough that they were free of the protective shield itself. The OR-14 fires frantically, making a distressed dun-daaah sound, as the omnics around it try to aim; the bastion is tilted to the side and cannot fire anywhere but straight through its allies. Several are cut in half by the turret, but overall it succeeds in killing several of Zarya’s group. 

The soldiers following her do manage to do some damage, but take an equal share. Bullets spiral past so closely that you can feel the heat sear your skin, and she curses the makers of her weapon for not finding a way to produce protective barriers at a swifter rate. So many she could save, and yet, not enough time to do so.

Shrieks and screams, the sounds of the dying will fill her dreams for years to come. This is a fact. It is her penance for not protecting them, as she should.

Graviton Surge dies with a  _sthlwip_  sound, swiftly swallowed up by the noise of other clashes occurring all around them. They are not even remotely close enough to the anti-aircraft turret  to land a shot, and every second they waste on this endeavour seems to be counted in blood… her forces are depleted. 

Zarya wants to regroup and save them, but for every bot they take down two more come out through the bunker entrance doors. Null Sector’s AI must have figured out how to reconfigure the manufacturing droid technology stored down there; originally for crafting basic supplies or needs in times of crisis, and now ironically, contributing to their downfall. It was quite literally, now or never.

 

One foot after the other, the ache of carrying her weapon for so long beginning in her wrists, and the stinging of small hurts she could not quite recall acquiring were starting to drain her resolve. Minor inconveniences, she told herself, lives depend on your actions so keep going.

One step. Another. Graviton pulse, again, again, again. Another OR-14 and Bastion team down. More omnics, tattered clothing the only remaining signs of their once sentient lives before being reprogrammed into killing machines. 

They did not deserve this, she surprised herself by thinking. Blinking, just in time to see a large arm hit her across the left cheek; Zarya didn’t have time to brace, and so fell hard, twisting swiftly sot he ground was at her back and using the bulk of her gravity cannon to halt the oncoming strike. The metallic arm of a construction droid clanged dully, then it slowly reared back for another attempt; and she took the chance to roll aside. 

In the few seconds it took to turn back and aim, the omnic was toppling over, lights blinking out as it was filling with laser pulses from behind her. 

“Are you injured?” she snaps at them, eyes darting over the assembled group.

“We were just going to ask you that.” says a brunette, a humourless grin splitting her tired face. She was familiar in a vague way, as were several others in the throng of military uniforms; looked old enough to have fought in the last war, which would explain the calm attempted humour.

 

“Then we proceed.” Zarya nods, turning fully to face their objective. Her cheek aches, as one would expect, but at the very least it had not been one of the bots created to reconstruct the city… there would have been nothing left of Russia’s Hero if it had been. She absently uses a protective bubble on one of the younger soldiers, still somehow full of vigour and fire as he runs headlong at a pair of approaching null-sector bots. She barely keeps their bullets off him. 

She hisses as something hits her in the side, and swears, something about their motherboards being devilspawn. It was not the best, so sue her. Her own barrier comes up and catches the rest, as she begins to slice through the oncoming wave of nullsector bots; distinct from the other omnics on the field via their uniquely uniform nature. It was like your worst nightmares come to life.

There is a crackle, and a cry… then another. Zarya risks a glance behind, to see several soldiers crumpling. One of the others unloads their pulse rifle right into the speedy little omnic zipping between their feet, taser arm outstretched. Someone swears, someone else gurgles and hits the ground on their knees; there is metallic clonking as null-sector troops approach. The brunette’s eyes flare in surprise as her face drains of colour, and she falls dead at the feet of Russia’s greatest hero. 

Zarya throws a protective barrier around the soldier directly behind the brunette, and another of those little omnic assassins slams into it. And again. And Again. like a roomba failing to comprehend how walls work. 

She takes two steps forward and brings her boot down atop it, crushing the thing to pieces. Fluids leak into the snow, no longer a threat. She should have known an electromnic wouldn’t come alone, those blasted things always work in tandem. 

 

Someone chokes to her right, the distinct sound of someone shot in the throat; there is no time to be sad, or angry. There is only the mission and a pile of bots to turn back into scrap. Perhaps melt them down and make a stylish, if impractical, toilet from, yes?

That thought brings a cold smile to her face.

 

The fighting is closer here, her gravity balls are no longer as effective as the laser; and even then, it is sometimes simply easier to beat the omnics with the cannon itself. There is little opportunity to throw protective barriers here, too; the space is limited, constrictive. One side bleeds into the other as the fighting gets closer. Humans to the front, intermingling; omnics pressing behind as they take on the soldiers guarding her back. 

She cannot use Graviton Surge without catching a few of her comrades alongside the foe. Zarya tries to hollow out a space amongst the press of bot and body; to find somewhere she can safely deploy her ultimate ability and perhaps help gain more ground. All around, the shearing of metallic limbs, and the sickening rending of flesh from bones is overwhelming; a scent of charred flesh rises, choking those still fighting.

Someone pleads for help, another begs for death, a robotic voice spits out static-filled words of confusion and apology… the cacophony is enough to send one mad. But her eyes are fixed on the anti-aircraft turret, if they can just reach it, this battle might shift in their favour. Retreat, send in a more… missile-laden alternative, and shut this operation down once and for all. 

No more lost lives… 

 

Everything felt automatic, firing, reloading, projecting the barriers, punching, pushing, shoving, shouting, it was all just movement and noise and action. She had to reach that damn-… 

Zarya is yanked into the air and hurled backwards by another gravity orb, damn these OR-14s; she barely gets the barrier up before it begins to fire. Her heartbeat quickens as the faint sound of a Bastion signals that its’ own ultimate ability had charged sufficiently. Surging upright, Zarya runs a few feet forward and unleashes Graviton Surge; it pulls the Bastion, OR-14, null sector bots and several compromised omnics into the air in a writhing metallic mass that seems to keep growing.

“Fire at will!” she shouts, just in case anyone behind her wasn’t currently blasting away like a machine gun. Pieces of robot fell in dribs and drabs, several powered down permanently; Zarya aimed at the Bastion, drew its attention and kept her barrier up as long as possible as she fired on it. It can repair itself, but not fast enough under continuous attack.

It finally crumpled into spare parts with a loud angry wheet whoo of protest, as Graviton Surge faded and the remaining bots fell back to earth. The OR-14 was damaged, but threw up a shield swiftly, before placing a super-charger beside itself. The remaining Null Sector bots perked up at the boost, and began firing faster, cutting down the remaining forces on the field with devastating accuracy.

She could not save them all. But she tried. 

By the time she took down the OR-14 and smashed the supercharger into fragments, there were few soldiers still behind her, much less on the rest of the battlefield. Everything was covered in steaming bodies and scarlet snow, sightless eyes staring at her and silently asking how she had not saved them. Her, Zarya… Protector of Russia… why not me? They asked.

 

She blinked. No, not now.

There were still people to fight, so they would. Even though Zarya noted that the omnics from every sector of the field were closing in, now that the human resistance was slowly dwindling to almost nothing under the never-ending onslaught. More and more omnics, nullbots mostly now, were swarming from the bunker entrance; threatening to overwhelm what was left of this foremost defence.

Zarya did her best to keep as many at bay with her gravity pulses and the laser… but there was only so much one person could do. Everytime she heard the hollow clank of an empty gun from behind, her stomach felt a little tighter; it had become the prelude to a scream, a signal of impending doom. 

One by one they fell before and behind. Firing and fighting, firing and fighting until there was no other thought within their minds or muscles but to Keep Going until the end. She was breathing heavily, arm feeling heavy and stiff, face bruising and various points of her body alternately burning or going numb. It was like some parts of her had simply decided to drift away… a strange sensation. 

 

At least there were now more behind, than before, Zarya thinks as her cannon beeps. She unleashes Graviton Surge again, and her battlecry is rather lackluster given that there are only a handful to hear it. They aim for the omnics in the air, and Zarya takes the chance to run for the anti-aircraft turret; it is huge, mostly completed and whirring as it turns. She fires gravity pulse after gravity pulse at it, damaging whatever she could, until the tell-tale sound of her ultimate fading catches her battle-dazed ears. 

Predictably hurled backwards by an OR-14, she lands in the snow and has to fight to get up before they are upon her. She sees now, what she couldn’t have whilst leading the others… they are, all of the humans, being sectioned off by walls of omnics and null sector bots. Isolated and assassinated. Kept from her line of sight, so she might not project a barrier to save them. 

She curses, tasting blood in her lips. Ah, of course, she’d bitten her tongue as she fell… Zarya fights the urge to laugh at the idea that in this battle, she had been the one to ultimately injure herself worse than anything the omnics had done so far. Picking up the graviton cannon, she aims into the enclosing wall of metal and fires, and fires, and fires again. 

Aleksandra Zaryanova would not be going down without a fight.

 

Bots fell, others took their place. Screams and battlecries echoed. 

The wall encroached, she could only put up so many barriers… Graviton Surge was nearly ready, but she needed a little more time…

Overhead, aircraft exploded as the turret fired at them, blasting them from the sky with merciless precision. Flaming piles of metal crashed all around them, flattening some nullsector bots, and filling the battlefield with smoking debris. 

Zarya was not going to give up, but it was becoming more apparent that there was no way out of this alive… much less to finish her weapon. She could feel every hit she took, every pulse that her barrier wasn’t able to catch in time… she fired back. But to what end? She wondered. 

 

Zarya starts when something touches her shoulder, and she whirls around, cannon at the ready. To find… nothing. 

 A quiet voice whispers by her ear, “ _Miss me?_ ” as something touches her nose, “ _Boop_!”

 

“ _Apagando las luces_!” cries Sombra, bursting into reality in an explosion of purple electromagnetic energy. It hits the omnics surrounding them like a bombshell, and several appear to deactivate for a few seconds.

“Well?” Sombra prompts, gesturing. “It won’t last forever…”

Zarya blinks, then starts to fire, unable to stop herself from asking, “Why?”

Sombra rolls her eyes and hurls the translocator towards the anti-aircraft turret. “Can’t let you have ALL the fun,  _mi amigo_!” she smiles, fading out of existence and reappearing nearby. Clearly heading for whatever kind of control panel she can get her hands on…

 

In the meantime, Zarya was left with the issue of taking out as many null sector bots as possible in the few seconds allotted to her by Sombra’s EMP blast. Already many of the omnics were coming back online and regaining control of their weaponry, their sensors, and most importantly, their targeting array. 

She ducked a hail of bullets from the swiftly-recovering OR-14s to her left, and blasted a nearby cache of nullsector bots. Her barrier caught the tail end of their fire, and protected her back for the few minutes it took to reach the bunker entrance. Zarya fired at it, her weapon not strong enough to bringing it down alone but perhaps if she can weaken the structure’s wall enough, they might buckle on their own. Only the roof and top of the facility were made nigh-impenetrable. The rest was standard metals, no one envisioned the facility being tunnelled into, after all. 

One wall was semi-blackened, but barely showing signs of damage when she was forced to throw up her barrier and move back; the omnics were advancing on her position. An idea seemed to arise as the Cannon bleeped, signalling that Graviton Surge was finally ready again; Zarya backed away just enough that it appeared to be retreat. She was pursued, naturally, by the Null-sector bots and their large robot guards, the OR-14s. 

Without any verbal warning, she unleashed the ultimate right above the entrance, ensnaring and suspending both those pursuing and the newly manufactured nullsector bots leaving the doors. Zarya activated her barrier, backing away and counting quietly in her head, waiting for-…

And it came. When her ultimate deactivated, the large mass of metal came crashing down on the entrance; one side bent inwards, and the other crumpled somewhat. It wasn’t perfect, but at least it would slow the tide and hopefully buy Sombra time to hack that turret. 

What the Talon agent was doing here, was anyone’s guess, but Zarya could honestly say she was not ungrateful for the support. Perhaps her fears for her people had blinded her to the magnitude of the problem; that having backup was note merely an inconvenience. But ah, that was a concern for another time, when there were hopefully less robots trying to kill her. 

 

There was a loud  _whrrrrrr_  as the turret powered down, followed by the sound of a small rapid-fire weapon being emptied into something metallic. Sparks flew as a faintly Sombra-shaped wraith dashed away, disappearing into thin air. 

Well, at least she had gotten awa-…

“ _Kzz-zz-Zarya_?” 

That particular voice caught her off-guard, and she whirled about, eyes wide in surprise as they fell upon the familiar faceplate of the only omnic she knew outside of Overwatch’s team-members. 

 

“Lynx Seventeen? What are you doing here? It is not safe, leave.” she says, somewhat confused and not really processing the inherent danger of their presence. 

“ _What I was a-asked to d-d-do kzzzst-z-z-Zarya…_ ” Lynx Seventeen grinds out over static, voice modulator malfunctioning. Their antennae are twitching, moving in all directions as if trying to convey something through semaphore, she would have to make a joke about it another tim-…

Zarya chokes as a crushing weight slams into her chest, forcing the air out. An intense discomfort seems to spread out across her chest, over her shoulders and down her spine.

“ _I’m s-szzz-so szzz-zz-szorry Zzz-Zarya…_ ” Lynx says, sounding genuinely distressed. “ _Mmmmmaaaaade Meeee do i-eee-it, c-can’t szzstop Nnnnull Ssszzectttor…_ ”

 

Her weapon lay discarded on the bloodstained snow, and Zarya fights to gain control of her hands, they seem cold and distant, numb almost. One finally grabs the robotic forearm just barely poking out from her chest, she doesn’t have the strength to pull it back. There’s a faint taste of blood in her mouth which can only mean her lungs are compromised, but she still tries to smile. 

“Is okay, Lynx… Null Sector is doing this… you were not so… bad… for an omnic…” words are slurring out, but maybe because it’s so cold, or it’s hard to breathe properly. Lynx Seventeen doesn’t move, even though they seem to want to run away from here, from this…

Zarya tries to take a step back and free herself, instead crying out as she trips over the severed arm of an OR-14. She hits the ground hard, in a manner that resonates the impact through her tired, battered body, at least free of the impaling arm. 

The world always seems to slow down when you are dying, at least the movies got that right, she thinks. When everything seems to pause, just for a second, Zarya becomes aware of just how few are left alive. Notices the way the world is a stark contrast of white and red, how the snow is unrelentingly covering the broken bodies of human and bot alike.. like mother nature is pulling a blanket over this tragedy. Hah, how ridiculously symbolic. 

 

She blinks slowly, copper in her mouth and her will to get up dwindling more than a little. There’s nothing to go back to, if they fail here. 

Rapid fire forces several of the remaining omnics back, and she thinks she raises a hand as Sombra manages to hack Lynx Seventeen. Maybe gurgles something, because the hacker pauses to look at her, back to Lynx, and raises an eyebrow. Sombra mimes shooting them, but Zarya somehow protests. 

Sighing dramatically, Sombra rolls her eyes and simply moves on.   
She thinks Lynx Seventeen is apologising again, but it’s lost in the background noise. Everything is secondary… the snow isn’t that cold anymore, it’s soft at least. 

There’s a familiar clanking, and she tries to find the words to warn Sombra of an approaching OR-14; wouldn’t make sense for them both to die here, after all. All that seems to escape is a strangled rasp, which annoys her no end, but at least catches the hacker’s attention.

 

“Not so fast!” shouts a familiarly authoritative tone, as the remaining nullbots and omnics are yanked up by Orisa’s HALT!orb and thrown back. The shield projector hits the snowy bank at her feet and materialises, putting a definite barrier between Zarya and the Null Sector bots doing their best to kill her. 

She hears a string of foreign words as a green streak shoots past overhead; but what catches Zarya’s attention is gentle voice encroaching on the edge of her vision. There’s a strangely weightless quality to her body as something… something she knows but can’t remember the name for… hovers above…

Her eyelids want to close… and she fights to open them again. 

 

Above her, floating serenely, is Zenyatta. “This will make you feel better, Zarya, please remain still.” he advises, in that gentle tone that seemed to set everyone at ease. Oh, it was an orb of… the good thing. She realised.

Her eyes shut again of their own volition as Orisa moves beside her, firing away at anything within targeting distance. In the same gentle tone, she hears Zenyatta serenely advise the surrounding Null Sector bots to, ‘Experience HOSTILITY’ before a series of metallic crunches announce the omnic monk has unleashed his orb arsenal.

Pain throbs, but lessens. Whenever the healers administered their potives or powers it always felt serenely odd… pain faded, but it was the sensation of your body knitting together again or bullets being expelled that always seemed to feel odd. As the moments pass, breathing becomes a little easier, she lets out a sharp gasp when the orb is briefly used for someone else… discomfort returns instantly and shocks her back to full awareness. 

Zarya’s eyes snap open and she fights to sit up, disgusted by how much of her own blood seemed to be coating her outfit, even if the wound has reduced from gaping to merely barely closed and was no longer seeping any bodily fluids. She nearly bumps her head on Bastion’s turret, he’s in sentry mode and merely turned to wave hello at the Russian before turning back to fire at anything that dared crawl out from the bunker’s squashed entrance. 

That explained why they had not been overrun from behind so far. 

 

“Where did you come from?” Zarya rasps, settling for propping herself up by the elbows. She notices Bastion pause to wave at her again, and she sighs before turning and saying ‘Hello.’ back. At which, he beeps happily, and shoots a hole through an encroaching construction bot.

Orisa looks down at her, setting a supercharger near Zarya’s head, firing aimlessly as she answers. “We were sent to assist you, the commanders were concerned about the threat you faced. Heroes should not fight alone.”

 

“I meant…” she struggled to find a polite way to say it. “Why you? This Null Sector creature can control omnics, turn them… evil.”

“Oh Efi has upgraded us to be resistant to this type of corruption of datafiles and purpose. Please be assured you are safe behind my barrier.” Orisa answers, and uses her HALT!orb again to snatch a series of assassinbots into the air, where Genji swiftly dispensed of them. 

As if suddenly remembering, Zenyatta spun around and flicked a wrist at Zarya, his Orb of Tranquillity followed. It hovered overhead again, the gentle golden glow seeping a calming, gentle healing energy into her battered body.

“Thank you…” she said, unsure what else to say. Their interactions up to this point had not been… positive. “But why… would you come?”

 

Orisa looks down at her, “Are you experiencing a loss of memory, Zarya? Have you received a head injury during the recent battle? Shall I call Zenyatta to check your pupils? Who is the current president?”

Zarya stifles an urge to laugh. “No, I-… well yes, I think I did. But I meant, why would you come out here to a place like this, for me…? I have not been very… polite… to any of you. You have no cause to-…” 

She pauses for a breath, feeling incredibly heavy and exhausted, drained of her will to stay awake. Zarya forces her eyes to stay open, stubborn to the last, and continues. “…-to risk anything for someone who has called you names, or treated you poorly… or said terrible things to your face…”

 

“Some have been harmed more than others by the War, and by Null Sector, it is understandable when they are crude toward cybernetic beings and omnics. It is not pleasant,” Zenyatta thoughtfully amends, kicking an OR-14′s faceplate in, “but it is understandable.”

“Besides, you are our teammate. Whatever we think of one another off the battlefield, you have never failed to protect us on it, and that is commendable.” Genji adds, sheathing his sword and striding over. He sinks to sit beside her, looking down pensively, but without malice. “I would hope you now understand that there is nothing worth your rage or your fear, in any of us.”

Zarya looks away from the piercingly earnest gaze, and finally lets her own eyes close. “No… you have weathered my misplaced… anger… long enough.”

 

There’s a bright flash that even Zarya can see from behind her closed eyelids, and then a voice filled with barely contained amusement speaks. “Awww, that’s adorable. But if you are all finished with this telemundo moment, perhaps we could get out of here…”

Sombra.

Zarya cracks open an eye, and spies the camera. “You can surrender that now, or I post your real name on the internet.”

Sombra’s eyes flare with a momentary note of tell-tale panic, then her expression morphs to something so mischievous even the fae must envy it. “Oh you’re no fun, Aleksandra… I was just capturing a beautiful family moment!” she chirps. And in that moment Zarya knows with dead certainty that the hacker’s already found a way to upload that photo.

“Have it your way… Olivia.” she retorts, pushing herself up into a seated position, just to watch Sombra’s expression morph to one of mortification and frustration. A familiar dropship seems to skim overhead, then continue on it’s way; there’s nowhere on the field to land now. Too much debris, human or otherwise.

“Well, aren’t you lucky I called you an Uberwatch?” Sombra teases, then flicks a chip through her fingers with dexterity and grace. “Oh, and the AI, Null Sector? Trapped it on here while you guys were being mushy and dramatic. I’ll give it to you if you promise not to put my name on the internet… and also, maybe… give me a ride?”

“I am sure the Commanders would love to have a chat…” Genji intones, deadpan. Sombra rolls her eyes in response and mutters something along the lines of, ‘Oh I bet they do…’

Bastion shifts back to his bipedal form, and waves at Sombra. Perhaps charmed, she waves back. 

 

Amidst the conversation, Zenyatta hovers by Zarya, hand not quite touching her shoulder as he asks, “How are you feeling, Aleksandra?” 

She casts about for a good response. “Better?” yes, that seemed to work nicely.

“My apologies, my Orb of Tranquility cannot work as swiftly as Mercy’s nanotech, but I am pleased it has alleviated some of your suffering.” Zenyatta responds, nearly drawing back as Zarya leans back into his touch and smiles. 

“You saved my life, there is no need for apologies…” she pauses, “Zenyatta.” The name comes out a little distorted, it’s the first time she’s actually said it, so it was bound to be a tad strange shaping the foreign syllables in her mouth. The omnic monk seems to brighten considerably at that little overture of companionship…

“You honour me.” he merely responds, turning his head instead towards a nearby snowclad hillock beyond the anti-aircraft turret, above which a blue flare has just popped. “Ah, it is time to leave. Are you well enough to stand, Aleksandra?”

 

“Yes, of course!” Zarya responds, pushing upright… then falling straight back down in the snow. “Apparently not.” 

Sombra snorts, trying to contain her laughter. Zarya rolls her eyes.  
“Find something funny, Olivia?”

Sombra snorts again, “N-nope. Nothing. Pffft!” 

 

Genji takes her arm as she stands again, and he encourages her to lean on him. From her perspective, she could probably break the offence hero in half if she fell on him… but as if sensing the thought, Genji shakes his head. “You are lucky I am indeed more machine than man, you weigh almost nothing to me, please let me assist you.”

She raises an eyebrow, “You do indeed have the heart of a man in there… very, how is the story? Ah! Very ‘Wizard of Oz’, no?”

“Please, never tell my brother that reference or I will never hear the end of it, Zarya, promise me…” he pleads, suddenly very aware what such a pun could mean in terms of sibling warfare. 

She nods, placatingly. “Da, I promise.”

 

They set off at a slow pace, Bastion continuously sweeping the area as Orisa leads the way, pretending not to notice how joyfully Sombra sits atop her back.   
Genji props Zarya up as they walk along, she is still tired and damaged to hell and back, but at least she can move forwards under her own power. Well, technically speaking… that is. 

Zenyatta floats behind, sombre as a tombstone across a mass grave of human and omnic alike. He turns, and looks knowingly towards a rather large pile of discarded OR-14 parts, tilting his head. “You can come out now, you are safe, my friend.”

The others pause, turning to see a rather skittish looking omnic appear around the edge; their clothes tattered but still technically on them, and their antennae flat against their head. They were hunched, like an abused animal waiting to be scolded by an angry owner; tense and afraid of what may come next, but unable to stop it.

Genji felt Zarya flinch a bit as the omnic raised their hand to wave, and noted the thick coating of blood that seemed to coat the metallic forearm. He moved slightly in front of the taller woman, trying to give her a sense of security whilst she was feeling vulnerable; as others had for him, when he was… recovering. 

“Z-zarya, I’m so sorry about that… I couldn’t stop, it wouldn’t let me… I didn’t mean to-…” They said, all in a rush, looking anywhere but the Russian. 

“Lynx Seventeen, did you want to try to kill me?” Zarya asked, voice… cool, somewhat emotionless.

“No? No! Of course I didn’t… I mean you can be rude, and annoying sometimes, like when we looked for that hacker for the President…” they pause, looking at Sombra, “that one over there actually… but I would NEVER-…!”

“Then it is not your fault. Null Sector made you do it. No big deal.” Zarya answered, cutting off their panicked explanation concisely. You could feel Lynx Seventeen relax from across the gap between the two parties. 

 

That resolved, other omnics of all shapes and sizes seemed to follow Lynx Seventeen out from behind the pile. All newly returned to their senses, and the control of their own bodies again; some seemed scared, others traumatised. Zenyatta did his best to console and comfort them all; offering them the chance to follow him to somewhere safe, where they might rest for a time, until they felt better.

A second flare rent the air, as if they assumed the party hadn’t seen the first. 

“Time to go then?” Sombra prompted, sliding up on Orisa’s back and patting the space behind her. “We’d get there faster if you’d just get on…” she sang to Zarya, who looked like she’d rather die. 

The Russian rolled her eyes, steadying herself on her cyberninja crutch, “I would prefer to walk, it is not that far.”

But it was too late.

 

~)0(~

 

And that was how it came to be that Soldier 76 had to call Ana from the cockpit of the dropship, certain his visor or at least his eyesight, was malfunctioning. For there, in front of them, coming over the hilltop was Zenyatta, Genji and Bastion and Genji, leading a small army of misplaced and half-naked Omnics of various shapes, sizes and makes. 

But the true question of sanity was just beyond them. Over the crest of the hill came Orisa, and mounted atop her back was Zarya, Orisa, and an oddly familiar omnic clinging so tightly to the Russian she might snap in half. 

Ana rubbed her good eye. 

Soldier took off his visor and stared accusingly at it.

 

They looked to one another, shrugged in unison and got ready for take-off. 

It was just one of those days…

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> ...you must know I specifically wrote this at an obscene time of early morning solely based on the mental image of Zarya riding on Orisa's back and trying not to show she enjoyed it.


End file.
